


In Phony Matrimony

by SolarMorrigan



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Grindelwald didn't happen AU, M/M, five and one fic, kink meme fill, this is very silly I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 17:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9912962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: So Graves has been a little stingy with his personal life around the workplace- but the lack of faith his aurors have in his relationship status is a little insultingOr; five times no one believed Graves was married and one time they realized he was telling the truth





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a fill for [this](http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/459.html?thread=978635#cmt978635) kink meme prompt. It's got a few made-up auror characters in it because I wanted to focus more on everyone's disbelief than on Graves' feelings on no one believing him and that required a few extra characters...
> 
> Since this is an AU anyway, we're just assuming the whole GrindelGraves thing didn't happen because this is supposed to be silly and fun

“So what about you, Graves?”

Graves, who had been lending half his attention to the conversation going on in the office over lunch break and half to a file in his lap, looked across the room at the auror who had spoken. “What about me, Gonzales?”

“We’ve just established that I managed to set up both Starling and Evans with successful dates,” Starling looked rather like he wanted to contest the statement, but Gonzales never gave him the chance, “But what about you? No one’s ever mentioned setting _you_ up on a date.”

“For numerous, excellent reasons.” Graves replied, taking a bite of his sandwich and returning most of his attention to his file. If he was going to socialize during lunch, he was at least going to multitask.

Gonzales was not placated by Graves’ answer, however. “I think it’s because people are too afraid of the challenge.” Gonzales gestured vaguely at his boss with the half-eaten apple in his hand, “But I’m sure we could find someone suitable for you if we looked.”

“I’m not stupid enough to date someone I work with.” Graves didn’t even look up from his file to respond, “And you don’t count, Aster, you got married before your husband got a job in transport.”

An auror sitting off to the edge of the group, who had just been about to protest Graves’ comment as her husband did, indeed, work in the transportation department, settled back into her seat. She shot Graves a dirty look nonetheless, though he paid her no mind.

“Well how do you figure I’m going to set you up with someone from around MACUSA, anyway?” Gonzales sniffed.

“You’re not _going_ to set me up with anyone,” Graves asserted, “But I know you were going to _try_ to set me up with Alvar from curse breaking because you were talking about it this morning.”

“Well maybe I was talking about a different Graves.” Gonzales replied, taking another vicious bite of apple.

Graves finally looked back up from his file, one eyebrow raised. “Right. Because there are so many other ‘hard-ass bosses’ with the name Graves in this building.”

Gonzales nearly inhaled his apple as a smattering of chuckles crossed the office. “Well I mean that in the best possible way, sir.” Gonzales rasped once he’d managed to clear his airway.

Graves only shrugged. “I can live with being a hard-ass if it means you all get your work done.” He looked back to Gonzales a final time before looking back to his report, “At least as well as you can live with being known as the meddling bastard who won’t stay out of people’s personal lives.”

Grinning unrepentantly, Gonzales shook his head. “What’s so wrong with Alvar, anyhow? Handsome guy, decent enough fellow, seems like the type who wouldn’t cower if you started yelling at him.”

Graves didn’t even bother touching on the subject of why everyone seemed to think he was only capable of communicating by yelling. “There’s nothing wrong with Alvar, so far as I can tell. He does his job well and that’s all I really care about.” Graves replied, “I’m not going to be going on a date with anyone.”

“What about Betty, from accounts?” Aster piped up, something vicious in the smile she threw her boss.

Gonzales looked back at Aster, leveling the woman with an unimpressed look. “ _Betty_ from _accounts._ Really?”

“Really. She punched a guy out in the cafeteria yesterday because he grabbed her ass,” Aster imparted this information with glee, “He went down cold. Betty’s a girl who won’t take anybody’s shit. Not even Graves’.”

“How ‘bout it, Boss?” Gonzales looked back to Graves, “Think Betty from accounting is more to your taste than Alvar from curse breaking?”

“I will not be going on a date with Betty, or with Alvar, or with whoever else you pull out of your ass.” Graves announced, the beginnings of irritation slipping into his voice, “I will not be going on any dates, period.”

“Oh, c’mon, Graves. I know you like your privacy, but you can’t be alone forever. Give me a good reason you can’t go one measly date.” Gonzales wheedled, completely ignoring the warning looks the other aurors were sending his way.

Graves fixed Gonzales with a look, as if weighing his options, before he spoke again. “I don’t find infidelity to be an attractive quality in a marriage. Is that reason enough for you?”

Gonzales looked affronted. “I’m not going to set you up with anyone _married_! What do you take me for?”

Graves sighed, allowing his head to fall back against his chair. “ _I’m_ married, Gonzales.”

“Oh, come on! Being married to your job doesn’t count.” Gonzales snorted.

The rest of the office, at this point, seemed to be waiting to see how deep Gonzales could dig his hole before their boss actually put him out of his misery.

“I’m not married to my job, I’m married to a man. We’ve been married for almost two years and I happen to be very taken with him still, so I will not be going on any dates.” Graves snapped.

The office was silent. Not even Gonzales could think of anything to say. Finally, Starling cleared his throat. “If you’re married… wouldn’t you go on dates with your husband?” He asked quietly.

“ _Okay_ ,” Graves shut the file in his lap and tossed the remains of his sandwich in the trash, standing from the chair he’d claimed at the edge of the room, “Disturbing though your preoccupation with my social life is, I do… _appreciate_ the… _concern_. But now that we’ve settled I don’t need a date, I think we can all go back to work. Lunch break is over.”

Graves did not sound like he appreciated the concern much at all, but no one dared to point that out as they hurried back to their desks.

-/-/-

If there was one thing that might convince Tina Goldstein that her sister was right and that she _was_ spending too much time at work and that she _wasn’t_ getting enough sleep, it was walking past Percival Graves’ office and thinking that she’d seen the man _smiling_.

Not that tight smile he wore when he welcomed new recruits to the office that was generally unsettling, or that sharp grin that held the promise of terrible things for whoever was on the receiving end of it, but an honest to fucking Merlin _happy smile_.

Her previous destination and her self-preservation instincts both forgotten, Tina backtracked until she was standing at the open door of her boss’s office and was able to stare inside. It was either a very persistent hallucination, or Graves really was sitting at his desk and smiling fondly down at the paper in his hands. It was- it really was a rather attractive expression on him, despite being so out of place Tina almost didn’t recognize the man. The smile disappeared, however, the moment Graves caught sight of Tina gawking in the doorway. “Help you with something, Goldstein?” Graves asked, dropping the paper on his desk.

“Oh, uh- no, sorry, sir. I just…” Tina cleared her throat, “You were smiling.”

Graves gave Tina a rather flat look. “I was unaware smiling had become an offense. I do try to keep up on recent laws, but I must have missed that one.”

Tina shook her head quickly. “No, I just mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that,” Tina paused, seemed to think better of her statement, and quickly tacked on: “At your paperwork. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile at your paperwork. Like that.”

Though Graves obviously saw through Tina’s hasty amendment, he let it slide all the same. “As it happens, I wasn’t smiling at my paperwork, Goldstein.” Looking down to busy his hands with some of the files on his desk as he continued speaking, “I just received a quick letter from Newt, is all.”

Tina blinked. Maybe one of them was losing their minds, after all. “Sorry, you got a letter from a _newt_?”

Graves stifled a sigh. “Not _a_ newt. My husband, Newt.”

Ah yes, Tina had heard about that conversation; she’d been out on assignment at the time, but the office had been buzzing by the time she got back, everyone whispering quietly about how Graves had declared he was married just to get out of a blind date. Tina wasn’t sure whether she believed Graves had made it all up- but if he had, he could have at least come up with a better name. Which was something Tina would absolutely not say to Graves’ face, and it was with utter horror that she listened to her mouth run without her permission anyway. “Newt? Really? Mr. Graves, that doesn’t even sound like a real name.”

 Oh, what Tina wouldn’t give for a time turner. But the words were already out, and Graves was only staring at her. Tina resisted the urge to fidget with every fiber of her being.

Finally, Graves put his hand up to his chin, one finger extended to tap his cheek contemplatively. “And I suppose you’d be the authority on what a real name sounds like, Goldstein?”

“Ah… no, sir, I… no. I suppose I only thought maybe “Newt Graves” didn’t quite roll off the tongue?” Tina barely contained a wince as the words left her mouth, as if insulting her boss’s made-up-or-maybe-not husband’s _full_ name was better than insulting just his _first_ name.

“He didn’t take my last name.” Graves replied after a moment.

“Oh.”

“But tell me, _Porpentina_ , what does a real name sound like?” Graves asked, finger still tapping idly at the side of his face.

Tina cleared her throat, wondering if her face was quite as red as it felt. “Perhaps I should be getting back to my work, sir.” She muttered, glancing almost longingly down the hall.

“Perhaps.” Graves nodded.

Tina took the nod for the dismissal it was and made for her desk, putting very concentrated effort into not running as she went.

-/-/-

In the following weeks, a few of the braver aurors—or possibly the stupider ones, no one had quite decided—would venture questions about their boss’s supposed spouse, all to be shut down with quick and uninformative answers.

“Where did you meet?”

“New York.”

“How come no one knows you’re married?”

“We had the ceremony in England.”

“Is it a secret?”

“If it is, it’s now a very poorly-kept one.”

“Why don’t you wear a ring?”

“Most married aurors don’t wear rings, they get in the way. Pay attention.”

The only person who managed to engage Graves in a conversation longer than two lines about his husband was, perhaps unsurprisingly, ever-nosy Gonzales. “So do we ever get to meet this mysterious husband of yours?” The auror asked one afternoon when Graves stepped into the main office for a cup of coffee.

“It remains an unfortunate possibility.” Graves admitted.

“Well how come we’ve never seen him before?”

“He travels. Extensively.”

“Travels?” Gonzales pulled a thoughtful frown, “What for?”

“Work.” Graves shot a look at Gonzales, “Which is exactly what you’re supposed to be doing right now.”

“Working or traveling?” Gonzales smirked over at Graves.

Graves returned the smirk with a rather vicious edge. “Working. I expect your report on this morning’s incident on my desk within an hour.”

Any traces of smugness dropped from Gonzales’ face. “Wait, you mean… an hour like the _next_ hour?”

“Fifty nine minutes now, Gonzales.” Graves replied, taking his coffee and returning to his office as Gonzales swore and scrambled for a quill.

Cases came and went and in the everyday hustle and bustle of the office, interest in whether or not Graves was telling the truth about being married waned slightly. It was something at the back of everyone’s minds—and no one was sure if it was a stranger possibility that their boss was pulling a long con on them or that he was _actually_ married—but it passed from a hot topic to a vague acknowledgement until the day a bowtruckle was confiscated off of someone.

The someone in question was a petty thief; a no-name criminal that had been more of an irritation than a real problem until he had seemed to acquire superior lock-picking abilities and began breaking into higher and higher risk locations. A clean entrance did not mean a clean getaway, however, and he was caught sooner rather than later. The secret to his sudden string of successful break-ins had been revealed once his personal effects had been removed: a bowtruckle, vicious protector of trees and surprisingly good little lock-picks. Mystery solved and case all but closed, everyone had expected Graves to leave the interrogation and other minutia to the aurors- the department head obviously had larger things to tackle than a petty thief.

No one expected Graves to zero in on the bowtruckle sitting amongst everything else that had been confiscated from the thief and… frown at it. Not the disappointed or disapproving frown that usually came up when his time was wasted on a small matter, but the concerned sort of frown that seemed to be reserved only for when one of his aurors was actually in need of help (gruff, “hard-ass” boss or not, no one ever doubted that Graves cared about his department). And certainly no one expected Graves to actually _go_ to the bowtruckle and _inspect it_. But inspect the bowtruckle Graves did, with great care and consideration for the creature’s delicate limbs and with a concerned frown on his face the whole time. “You’re not well-fed at all.” Graves told the bowtruckle after a few moments of intense consideration.

The bowtruckle peeped.

Gonzales, Tina, and Starling, all of whom had been watching with open fascination, exchanged glances. They elbowed each other a few times before Tina apparently lost the draw and cleared her throat. “How can you tell that, Sir?”

“Tell what?” Graves asked as he began to dig through the rest of the thief’s personal effects.

“That the bowtruckle is… underfed.”

“Its leaves are dried out around the edges,” Graves muttered, still apparently searching for something, “It’s also too thin for a bowtruckle of its size… _ah_.”

Graves unearthed a small glass bottle from the inside of a ratty leather pouch, looking triumphant only for a moment before he frowned again. “Dried out woodlice.” Graves sighed, opening the bottle and shaking some of the dead bugs out in front of the bowtruckle, “It’s no wonder, if that’s all the bastard’s been feeding you.”

The bowtruckle fell upon the lice with fervor, anyway, well past the point of being picky with its meals.

“I had no idea you knew so much about bowtruckles, Mr. Graves.” Tina said after a moment.

“Newt carries one in his pocket wherever he goes. Hard not to learn about them.” Graves replied, still focused on the creature before him.

“…Newts don’t have pockets.” Starling half whispered, looking as though he had missed something important.

“No, Newt is his husband.” Tina whispered back.

Starling took a few moments to parse the information. “His… oh! I didn’t know he had a name.”

Tina elbowed him. “Of _course_ he has a name. Everyone has a name.”

“Right, it’s just we didn’t think he was…”

“Wait, I think we’re all missing something important here,” Gonzales interrupted before Starling could say anything too difficult to come back from, “Why would your husband be carrying a bowtruckle with him all the time, exactly?”

Graves finally turned his attention to the aurors behind him, one dark eyebrow raised, and Gonzales hastily added the word “sir” to the end of his sentence.

“He has… attachment issues.” Graves told them after a moment.

“Him or the bowtruckle?” Starling asked before he could think better of it.

Graves shook his head, recapped the bottle of dried woodlice and handed it over to Starling. “Take the bowtruckle down to the beasts department and make sure it will be well cared-for until the trial date.”

Starling looked over to Tina and Gonzales before coming to the realization that Graves was, in fact, speaking to him and nodded hurriedly. “Ah, yes, sir. Right away.”

“And try not to let it become attached to you on the way down.” Graves added as he left the room.

“Yes, sir.” Starling replied automatically, then shot the bowtruckle a rather alarmed look, “He… doesn’t mean that literally. Right?”

“Shoulda paid more attention in school,” Gonzales clapped Starling on the shoulder with a grin, “C’mon, Goldstein. Have fun with the bowtruckle, Starling.”

Tina followed Gonzales into the interrogation room, leaving Starling alone to watch the bowtruckle uneasily and wonder how best to get it down to the beasts department without touching it.

-/-/-

The “Is that a bowtruckle in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me” jokes took about a month to peter out, and only then because it took someone that long to slip up and say it while Graves was in earshot. The speculation over whether Graves was simply knowledgeable about bowtruckles because they could be so easily used to commit crimes or because he really did have a husband who really did carry a bowtruckle in his pocket died out around the same time; as ever, the auror department was busy and speculation about their boss’s personal life was put on the back burner in favor of doing actual work. Mostly.

It couldn’t be said that the subject was ever entirely forgotten, however, which was perhaps why Graves’ announcement that he had taken some leave and that the department would be in the hands of Deputy Director Perkins for the next week and a half caused more of a stir than it might normally have. There were the usual groans in regards to Perkins’ temporary appointment, because Perkins was _irritating_ and the aurors would listen to him but they wouldn’t _like_ it, but on top of that was the suspicion of why Graves had taken any leave in the first place.

“You never take vacation time.” Gonzales accused, sitting behind his desk with his arms crossed.

“He takes vacation every year,” Aster disagreed, “Madam President makes him.”

“Hm,” Gonzales grunted, “Well where are you going?”

Graves frowned at the auror, moving to stack his papers into order. “I informed you so that you wouldn’t be caught unaware by the sudden shift in department heading, not so that you can interrogate me. If there are no further concerns…”

“It just seems like an odd time to take vacation, ‘s all.” Gonzales shrugged, “I was just wondering why _now_. And where.”

“If there are no further concerns _pertaining to the meeting_ , we can all get back to work.” Graves continued as though Gonzales had never spoken.

“Well you _did_ mention it as part of the meeting.” Aster pointed out.

“You always know where _we’re_ going when we take leave.” Gonzales added.

“Because I’m the director and I need to be able to get a hold of you. Do you think I’m _stalking_ you with the information?” Graves snapped.

“We’re not going to _stalk_ you!” Gonzales insisted, failing to heed the climbing irritation in Graves’ voice. “We’re curious!”

“Besides, what if _we_ need to get a hold of _you?_ ” Aster chimed in, apparently bolstered by Gonzales’ inability to keep his own mouth shut.

A curious look passed over Graves’ face, somewhere between pained and viciously irritated, before the expression smoothed away completely. Everyone held their breath, waiting to see if Graves had finally been pushed too far or if he was planning on ignoring them all outright. The latter seemed possible as the man bent to shuffle his papers into a folder, which left everyone startled when a single word rang out over the silent room.

“Canada.” Graves bit out.

“Why in the hell would you go to _Canada?_ ” Gonzales snorted before he could really stop himself.

“Because that’s where my husband is, Gonzales.” Graves exhaled, fixing the auror with an irritable stare, “Is your curiosity satisfied, now?”

Gonzales opened his mouth but shut it just as quickly when Graves’ eye twitched, deciding not to push his luck. Aster, however, had not seen the warning twitch and spoke up in Gonzales’ stead. “Wait, so… your husband, whom none of us have ever met or seen evidence of… is from _Canada_.” She asked slowly.

Graves rounded on Aster, causing her to flinch to attention out of habit. “No. He is from _England._ He is currently _in_ Canada, consulting on a mooncalf reserve there, where I intend to surprise him with a visit.” Graves took his folder and straightened with a snap so loud he had to have spelled it to amplify, “I will be gone exactly ten days. I will be leaving tomorrow and, since everyone seems so concerned about my absence, you can finish any open reports you have and submit them to me by this evening so there is no slack left when I go.”

Graves cast a look around the office, waiting for anyone to object, and nodded at their silence. “Try not to blow up the department while I’m gone.” He added before he turned and left for his office.

A collective exhale resonated throughout the office when they heard the click of Graves’ office door, several aurors turning sour expressions on Gonzales. “You’re actually determined to make everyone in here miserable, aren’t you?” Tina sighed.

Gonzales chewed the inside of his cheek sheepishly, then pointed an accusing finger at Aster. “Hey, _she’s_ the one who insinuated the boss has an imaginary girlfriend from Canada!”

“Imaginary husband from Canada,” Aster corrected him archly, “And seriously? It’s too easy.”

“See? She doesn’t believe it, either!” Gonzales insisted, “At least I’m trying to find the truth.”

“Yeah, well, find the truth at the bottom of my reports, Gonzales.” Tina snapped, getting up to drop a stack of folders on her coworker’s desk, “I had other things to do today before you forced a deadline on all of us.”

“Hey!” Gonzales protested, attempting to scramble the extra paperwork off his desk, but Tina had already turned heel and left the office, a few other aurors taking her cue and leaving alongside her to complete their own outside assignments.

“So…” Starling, who had remained wide-eyed and quiet for the entire conversation, finally spoke, looking from Gonzales to Aster and back again, “Do we _not_ believe Graves’ husband is in Canada?”

Gonzales groaned.

-/-/-

Ten days exactly passed and Graves returned from his vacation. _Whistling_.

It wasn’t a particular tune anyone recognized, but it was vaguely pleasant nonetheless, if not somewhat off-putting for coming from someone who notoriously did not whistle.

“Well he’s definitely in a better mood,” Tina commented when Graves had passed through the office for a cup of coffee, “Maybe he really _did_ go up and visit his husband.”

“Oh, I’d say he definitely found _someone_ to occupy his time.” Gonzales winked, grinning salaciously.

Aster smacked him in the side, shooting him a narrow-eyed look. “Don’t be crass.”

“Just saying.” Gonzales shrugged.

The aurors supposed it was excusable, then, considering the whistling, that they didn’t notice the ring until almost a week later. It was a very subtle ring, after all, and the whistling had been rather jarring. In the end, it was Tina who caught sight of it- a dark wood band around Graves’ left ring finger, polished and gleaming in the low light of the office one evening. “Oh.”

Graves glanced over at Tina. “What’ve you got, Goldstein?”

Tina clapped a hand over her mouth and dropped it immediately, shaking her head. “Nothing, sir, sorry, I just saw,” She paused and cleared her throat, “That’s a very nice ring. I didn’t notice it earlier.”

The few other aurors gathered around the conference table, sifting through files and information on the present case, all glanced up at Tina’s words to search Graves’ hands for the ring in question. Graves himself paused his work, turning his hand for just a moment to look at the ring. “Thank you.” He said after a moment, looking back to his file.

“Is… it new?” Tina ventured, looking carefully down at her own papers.

“Not particularly. I hardly ever wear it, though. Gets in the way.”

Tina hazarded a glance in her boss’s direction and found him still concentrating on his work. “Why wear it now, then?”

“I thought it would be nice.” Graves looked up, catching Tina just as she turned back to what she had been reading and shook his head, “Newt will be coming home to stay for a while. Thought I should actually wear my wedding ring for once.”

“Oh,” Tina paused, “That does sound nice, Mr. Graves.”

“Glad you think so.” Graves drawled, dragging another file off the stack beside him to focus on.

Tina and the other aurors around the table exchanged a quick glance, noting the quiet tick of wood against wood, the sound of Graves tapping his ring on the edge of the table as he became absorbed in his file.

-/-/-

“We’ve gotta stage an intervention or something.” Gonzales decided.

“Because he’s wearing a ring?” Aster scoffed.

“Yeah, because he’s wearing a ring! I don’t know about you guys, but I think this is getting pretty sad,” Gonzales insisted, “Saying you’re already with someone to get out of a date is one thing, but this is taking it pretty damn far.”

“Well we don’t know for sure his husband is made up,” Starling shrugged, “I mean, who goes out and buys an actual wedding ring just to kid people?”

Gonzales threw his arms up. “That’s what I mean! Graves doesn’t do jokes in the first place and he actually went as far as to buy a _ring_?” He shook his head, “I don’t like it. Something’s gotta be up.”

Aster rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. Just because we haven’t _seen_ his husband and didn’t hear about him until a couple of months ago…”

“And he’s got a weird job, a name that sounds made up, travels a lot but is conveniently nearby when we start to doubt he’s real,” Gonzales ticked off on his fingers, “What d’you think, Goldstein?”

Tina frowned into her coffee, considering. “I admit it doesn’t sound the best, but… it’s not affecting his job or anything, is it? Whether it’s a joke or all some elaborate way to get you to stop trying to set him up on blind dates, I don’t see that it’s hurting anything.”

“Man, seriously? You’re, like, the nosiest person in this room and I can’t get you on my side?” Gonzales sagged against his desk.

“I am _not_ …” Tina began, only to be cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Tina, Starling, and Aster all turned away from Gonzales’ desk to find a man standing just behind them, apparently having snuck up without their notice. He wore a rather unseasonable blue coat and was clutching a leather suitcase in one hand and a visitor’s pass in the other, looking rather uncertain of himself beneath a mop of red-brown hair. “Ah, yes, hello, excuse me,” The man cleared his throat again, continuing in a distinct British accent, “Sorry to interrupt, it’s just- is this the department of magical law enforcement?”

“This is it,” Tina nodded, “Can we help you?”

“Yes, actually, I’m looking for someone.” The man nodded.

“Missing person?” Gonzales cocked an eyebrow, sitting forward in his chair.

“Oh! No,” The man’s eyes went wide as he shook his head, “No, sorry, I’m looking for someone who works here.”

“Well we all work here. What d’you need?” Starling prodded.

“No, I’m looking for a specific…” The man looked down for a moment, shaking his head, “Perhaps I should- my name is Newt Scamander. I’m looking for Percival Graves. Could you possibly…”

“Did you say _Newt_?” Tina interrupted.

“Yes,” The man tucked his visitor’s pass under one arm and extended his hand to Tina, “Newt Scamander.”

“Tina Goldstein.” Tina took his hand to shake, her eyebrows rising as she looked from his face to the hand holding his suitcase, “You’re wearing a ring.”

“…yes?” Newt looked uncertainly from Tina to the three other aurors who had just zoned in on his hand, “It’s my wedding ring.”

“And you said you were looking for Percival Graves?” Aster dragged her eyes from the wooden band around their visitor’s finger and back up to his face.

“Yes. I was hoping to sort of… surprise him, actually.” Newt admitted, “Only I’ve never been here before and I got a bit turned around. Honestly, I’ve been able to navigate jungles more effectively than this building, how do you work here every day without getting lost?”

“You get used to it.” Starling grinned, then leaned over and nudged Gonzales, “Told you he wasn’t making it up.”

Newt’s brows scrunched together in confusion. “Of course I’m not making it up. Look, I’ve got a visitor’s pass and everything, I just lost my way,” Newt brandished his pass towards the group at large, “Now could one of you please tell me where I can find- _Percy_.”

“ _Percy?_ ” Gonzales muttered, looking from Newt to his fellow aurors, only to realize everyone was now focused on something behind his desk.

“Newt,” Graves voice rang out across the office, “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“Of course I was. I said I’d come surprise you at work,” Newt replied, quickly sidestepping Gonzales’ desk to approach Graves, “You don’t look very surprised, though.”

“I heard when your ship came in this morning.” Graves told him, not objecting at all as Newt came and stood closer to him than anyone in the office ever dared, “I have your passport flagged.”

Newt gave Graves a rather weak glare. “I know. Do you know how many raised eyebrows that gets me whenever I go through customs? Everyone looks at me as though I’ve done something wrong.”

“Because you probably have.” Graves grinned.

“Well I married you, for starters…” Newt replied, hints of his own smile tugging at his mouth.

At this, Aster grinned outright, leaning down to whisper to Gonzales. “ _You owe me five dragots_.”

“ _How do I owe you money? We didn’t make any bets!_ ” Gonzales hissed.

“ _You made us all miserable for months,_ ” Aster elbowed him in the side, “ _You owe me money for that_.”

Newt turned to glance back at Tina and the other aurors who had greeted him. “What have you been telling them about me, anyway?” Newt asked quietly, “They seemed to think I’d made something up.”

Graves shook his head, also glancing over to where Aster and Gonzales were now blatantly arguing. “They think _you’re_ made up.”

Newt gave another wide-eyed look to the aurors in question. Starling was still grinning at him while Tina at least pretended to be focused on her coffee and Aster and Gonzales continued nudging each other back and forth. “How can I be made up? I’m standing right here.” Newt looked down at himself, flapping his visitor’s pass around once more.

Tina snorted, nearly spilling her coffee. Starling shifted his weight on his feet for a moment before addressing Newt. “Do you actually carry a bowtruckle with you?”

That, at least, shut Aster and Gonzales up, both turning to see Newt’s reply. Newt shot an uncertain look at Graves before shoving his visitor’s pass into his coat pocket and reaching up to tap his lapel gently. There was no mistaking the small green creature that peered out from behind it. “His name is Pickett.” Newt told them.

Starling gave a short laugh of delight, reaching over and tapping Gonzales on the shoulder. “You owe me five dragots now, too.” He declared.

“No one owes anyone any money.” Graves snapped before Gonzales could protest Starling’s claim, “Now stop standing around staring and get back to work.”

The aurors hastened to comply, each returning to their own desk and quickly picking up files and papers, but not one of them missed the way Graves’ hand found its way to the small of Newt’s back as he led Newt away to his office.

“Why on Earth do they all think I’m made up?” Newt’s voice carried back to them over the low noise of the office.

“You should come visit more.” Graves told him.

“No, I am never coming to visit you at work again.” Newt insisted, though he punctuated the statement by leaning over and kissing Graves quickly on the cheek, just before they disappeared down the hall.

Once reasonably sure Graves and Newt had disappeared into the former’s office, Aster pointed across her desk to Gonzales. “You’re definitely buying us drinks tonight.” She declared.

“Sure. Why the fuck not?” Gonzales threw his arms up, “Wanna invite the boss and his husband while we’re at it? We can celebrate Graves’ marriage, two years late.”

“Oh, I don’t know. They’ll probably be busy tonight.” Tina replied, glancing at Gonzales over her file, “I’ll definitely take you up on a drink, though.”

Gonzales huffed, grabbing a quill and starting on his work. “Don’t know how you all decided this was my fault,” He muttered, more to himself than his coworkers, “Graves is the one with the made-up sounding husband…”

“Look at it this way, Gonzales: you found the truth.”

“Shove it, Starling.”

-/-/-

**Author's Note:**

> I know the "imaginary girlfriend from Canada" trope is a bit anachronistic here, but it was too fun to pass up. I'm also a huge fan of Graves and Newt having wood wedding rings, so I kinda... stuck that in there
> 
> I am also on [tumblr](http://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/) if anyone wants to drop by and say hi or talk about headcanons or make a request or... anything?


End file.
